Sanctuary For All
by museless22
Summary: Abnormals aren't the only ones that need Sanctuary. Another short ficlet from my LJ.


Title: Sanctuary for All

Pairing: None

Rating: G

Disclaimers: Not mine, not mine, not mine

Summary: Abnormals aren't the only ones that need Sanctuary

Author Notes: A wee lil' fic that's so full of cute I guarantee it'll make you sick. :D Inspired by my wonderful new kitten, which I can't believe anyone wouldn't want. Couldn't think of a good title so I went with the completely unoriginal thing. Which actually does fit though, ironically enough.

Helen Magnus was on her way home from a phenomenally uneventful mission when she saw it, what looked like a ball of fluff in the middle of the street. It wasn't until she was almost on top of it that she realized it was not, as she initially thought, roadkill, but a teeny tabby cat. She braked hard and swerved the unwieldy van over into the other lane to avoid him then coasted back over to park on the side of the road.

The kitten, oblivious to his narrowly avoided flattening, rolled over onto his back and batted at something unseen as the Sanctuary's head bounded out of the car, leaving the door open.

"This is hardly the place for you, little one." The kitten blinked owlishly as she picked it up by the scruff of the neck, letting out a barely audible meow. "Where did you come from?"

A chorus of squeaks drew Helen's attention to the cardboard box left haphazardly just off the curb and her captive's two siblings, orange and pink nosed, still inside.

The little tabby swatted one paw at her nose with still ridiculously sharp baby claws and she jerked it back, sighing. "Marvelous. What am I going to do with all of you?"

#

"Come on Mom, we've gotta keep them." Ashley was sprawled on the floor in Helen's office, teasing one of the kittens with her hair. Will had the tabby, reduced to babbling mush by the "Cute little guy!", while the third was MIA, presumably hiding under the desk.

"Absolutely not." Helen glared as the previously missing cat decided to dig its claws into one of the desk's wooden legs and shooed it away. "We will find them good homes. Just not here."

"But they're so sweet." Will scratched at the tabby's ears, making faces at it that made Helen seriously question her Protege's sanity. "Not like we don't have the room. Aww, look at the wittle face." He cuddled the kitten close under his chin, turning it so it was looking directly at Magnus with its big green eyes. "How can you not love this face?"

"Henry's allergic." the unclaimed kitten pounced on her foot and clung. "Besides, they're _cats_. They're messy and they get into things they're not supposed to..."

"I can't believe miss 'Sanctuary for all' doesn't like pets." Will grinned, waving the kittens little paw. "They're cute and homeless. We specialize in... well, _weird_ and homeless, but still."

"Pleeeeeease mom? Come on."

"They're not staying." Failing to shake it off, Helen scooped the kitten up and deposited it back in their box, now sitting atop her desk. "Now stop it, the both of you!"

Will sighed. "Sorry bud, I tried." He kissed the top of the kitten's head and placed it gently back in the box while Ashley did the same.

"Don't pout at me. Out!"

"But Mom-"

"No."

"But-"

"Still no."

"_Fine!_"

Left alone at last Helen sank into the chair behind her desk, scowling as the tabby peeked at her over the top up the box. "You can't stay. There's no use looking at me like that."

The kitten tilted his head and meowed piteously.

"Oh. Don't do that."

She plucked it up and cradled it to her chest, scratching behind smokey little ears. They _were_ terribly cute. And it was, after all, a sanctuary, which implied a certain amount of welcome-ness. Given some of the things that they housed cats were positively mundane.

"Oh, alright. For a little while at least."

Somewhere out in the hall, Ashley whooped, "YES!"

The kitten curled up, a warm purring ball of fuzz, and Helen shook her head, lips twitching in a bemused half-smile.

"I've got to change my business cards."


End file.
